


The Hero

by mhysamerica



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Next Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhysamerica/pseuds/mhysamerica
Summary: James Rogers has a dream about his father's death. Natasha tries to calm her son down.





	The Hero

“Daddy!  Daddy!  Daddy!”  

Four-year-old James Rogers was yelling for his father in his sleep, tears falling on the pillow beneath his head.  His body was tossing and turning, his entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

Having heard her son’s screeching cries, Natasha’s eyes shot wide open in surprise.  Without one second to spare, she flew from her bed and ran to his bedroom, grabbing for her robe on the way out.  Her breathing quickened in panic as she realized that he was experiencing his first nightmare—at least, the first that she was aware of.  She was suddenly petrified, an emotion that she commonly dealt with these days now that she had a husband and a son to worry about. But, out of all of the days, Steve was on assignment halfway across the planet, and she wasn’t sure when he’d be back.  She had to deal with this by herself.

She could do it, though.  Right?

“James?” she called from his already open door, slipping her robe on and tying the sash tightly around her waist.

He had failed to respond to her voice, his body shaking from inconsolable sobs.  Striding from the doorway to one side of his bed, she lifted him out from under his bed sheets, cradling him in her arms and hugging him tight to still his shaking.  She gently patted his cheek, the concern in her eyes palpable. “James. James, wake up, baby. James...”

As his eyes began to regain their sight, she brushed his damp, dirty blonde hair from his perspiring forehead and she sighed rather heavily.  A small smile quickly formed across her face. “That’s it, baby. Open your eyes.”

“Mommy?”  His eyes were swollen and watered and his voice was unsteady, tinged with confusion and fear.  

She beamed, attempting to hide the fear that she was feeling.  “Yes, baby. Mommy’s here. You’re safe.”

His words staggered as he struggled to speak.  “Is Daddy here yet?”

She combed her fingers through her red, straight tresses, scratching her scalp as she tried to find words that would make the situation better.  “No, baby. But I’m here. What’s wrong?”

And right then, he began to sob uncontrollably.    

The expression on her face pained.  “James! Oh, baby, don’t cry!”

Her first instinct was to phone Steve, but she discarded the idea almost immediately.  She didn’t want to distract him on his mission, so she tried everything that she knew to do to calm James down and help him fall back asleep.

She warmed a glass of milk up, but he only drank one half of one sip before he was already pushing it away.

She pulled his favorite storybook ( _The Courageous Captain America_ , of course) out from his bookshelf, but she barely made it halfway down the first page before he again broke into tears.  

Singing him back to sleep with Russian lullabies usually did its trick, but not that night.

Nothing was working.  He just wanted his father home.

He lied back down in a fetal position.  “I want my daddy,” he murmured before he buried his entire body and face under his blanket, his sobs still audible but less fervent.  She sighed exhaustively and smoothed her hand along his blanket-covered, tiny bottom before stepping out of his bedroom to run to her own.  

Ugh.  She couldn’t do this.  She couldn’t do this.

She.  Couldn’t.  Do. This.

After grabbing her mobile phone from her nightstand, she danced her thumb over the “number two” button on the dial pad.  She contemplated for five seconds before finally holding down on the button for one couple of seconds, speed dialing her husband.  The first time, she hung up after just two rings; the second time, exactly 10 seconds later, she let it ring. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she quietly whispered as it rang and rang and rang.  Nothing. It went to his voicemail. A sob escaped her and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

“Hi, it’s me,” she began after the beep, wiping tears that were now racing down her cheek.  “So, James just had his first nightmare. Been over an hour now, can’t seem to get him to stop crying.”  Her voice was beginning to sound panicked. “He won’t tell me what’s wrong. He just keeps saying he wants his daddy.  Maybe, if you can, you can call home? He’ll probably calm down if he just hears your voice.” The sudden urge to relent, she wanted to take back what she had just said.  She shook her head as she continued. “Actually, never mind. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” Her cry became audible, her hands covering her mouth for one moment.  “I love you, Steve. Stay safe.”

Upon hanging up, she allowed her tears to fall unrestrainedly.

Within moments, however, she calmed herself down.  She couldn’t do this without Steve, but she had to.  She had to be strong, for James’ sake. Upon walking back to the doorway of James’ bedroom, she saw that he was still under his blanket, and that he was still crying.  She felt as though her heart was wrenching apart.

“James?” she called as she walked back over to one side of his bed, sitting on that one side.  She ran her hand over his blanket-covered head. “James. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, baby. But I’m here to protect you, so please tell Mommy what’s wrong.”

The inquiry yielded no response, and he remained listless under his blanket.  A feeling of unease was beginning to permeate her mind, tears falling down once more.  “Please, baby? Tell Mommy what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Nothing.  There was nothing more that she could do, except to cuddle him and let him cry out his pain.  And that is exactly what she did for exactly 30 minutes.

And exactly 30 minutes later, came a voice from out of the bedroom. 

“Nat.”

Her head immediately turned to where the voice came from.  A sudden wave of relief had left her slightly breathless and tremulous as she slowly stood to her feet, her mouth slightly agape in blind anticipation

Steve came home.   

He was still wearing his stealth S.T.R.I.K.E. suit, and was still dirty of dust and grime and soot, but he came home, and that was what mattered most.

His blue eyes were wide with worry as he practically ran over to his wife’s trembling body.  He cradled Natasha’s jaw in his palm, pulling her head toward his chest. “I rushed home as fast as I could,” he whispered, his lips pressing to her forehead.  His voice somewhere between debilitating and painful. She settled her hands on his hips, her own moistened eyes closed in gratitude.

Steve’s eyes moved to his son, who had now kicked his blanket away and was looking up at him with eyes of a similar hue.  Steve smiled at him warmly, though it did little to quell his worries. “Hey, little soldier.” James’ eyes were still puffy and tear-stained, his mouth quivering but silent.  

Steve grabbed a hold of Natasha’s hands and squeezed them gently before letting them go.  And with a face filled with patience, Steve sat at the foot of James’ bed, giving his tiny leg a gentle pat.  “Wanna tell Daddy what happened?” 

James sat up on his bed and wiped his own tears with his tiny hands.  He shook his head, “no.” 

Steve turned his head around to see Natasha, who was now leaning against the closest bedroom wall with her arms loosely wrapped around her stomach.  Steve gave her a wink, and she nodded understandingly. She smoothed a hand over James’ hair upon walking over to him. “I love you so much, James,” she murmured in assurance as she pressed her lips to the top of his head, kissing his hair.  She threw him a smile before heading out of the bedroom.

Reaching to his back, Steve set his Vibranium-made shield on the floor.  Then, he scooted himself closer to James, his back and head leaning against the bed’s headboard.  “It’s just me and you, now, buddy. What’s going on?” He playfully nudged his elbow against James’ tiny arm.  “You can tell Daddy anything, you know that.”

It took him exactly two seconds to respond.  “You died in my dream,” he whispered as his cries started up again.  He shuffled on his bottom to sit closer to his father, hugging him with all of his might.  Steve’s face immediately filled with horror as he held him as closely as he could. “James…” 

“I didn’t wanna tell Mommy,” James continued to explain, his chest heaving rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath.  “I just wanted you to come home. I didn’t want my dream to come true.”

Steve took a deep breath, holding back a tear that threatened to fall.  “James, listen to me.” Steve gently and rapidly pinched his nose, to get him to look up at him.  Steve’s tired eyes were gentle and his tired smile loving. “I’m here now, I’m home. Whatever happened in your dream wasn’t real, okay?  Just in your head.”

The expression on James’ face showed him that he wasn’t convinced.  “I’m very careful. Always. Your uncles are always protecting me, too.”

With one of his calloused but nimble hands, Steve rubbed James’ arm that was slung over his stomach.  “This is why I do what I do…to keep you safe, so you don’t get hurt. You understand, son?” After one moment, James nodded into Steve’s abdomen and squeezed him tighter.  Steve pressed his lips on his head. “Just remember: no matter where I am, I’m always keeping you and your mommy safe.” 

“I love you, Daddy!” James cried with his eyes tightly shut.

Steve breathed into his hair, smoothing his hair on the back of his head.  “ _Mo mhac, tá grá agam duit_.”

Approximately one half of one hour later, she had returned to check up on them, for Steve never came to their bed.  Not a single voice was heard from inside of the bedroom, just the clicking of a clock in the hallway. She peeked around the bedroom doorframe, only to see them sleeping soundly together.  James’ body was wrapped in Steve’s arms, his head buried in Steve’s chest.

Walking over to where they lied, she covered their bodies with James’ blanket, and smiled a type of smile that hadn’t been seen from her in recent hours.  She combed one of her hands through each head of hair and kissed each forehead as softly as she could. For one moment, she watched them sleep with adoration and moist eyes.  She marveled at how lucky James was to have Steve as his father, and how lucky she was to have Steve as her husband. 

While Captain America may be a hero to a great many people, Steve Rogers was a hero to his son and wife, and to his son and wife, he was the most heroic man whom they had ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> "Mo mhac, tá grá agam duit" - "I love you, my son"


End file.
